Ask the pilot

Flight attendant, stewardess, trolley dolly. Whatever you call her, she was once a high-fashion sex symbol. At some airlines, the image lives on.

By Patrick Smith

Read more: Technology & Business, Airlines, Business, Flight Attendants, P. Smith, Ask the Pilot

Feb. 9, 2007 | Let's start with a letter, courtesy of reader Joanne Miller:

"Dear Mr. Smith," Miller begins. So far, so good. "I'm not sure what planet you've been living on for the past 30-odd years ..." Here we go. "... but you may want to take note of the following, in reference to your use of the word 'stewardess': By the end of the 1970s, the term 'stewardess' was generally replaced by the gender-neutral alternative, 'flight attendant.' Welcome to the next century."

Guilty as charged, and I readily confess to premeditation. Twice in the past month, actually, and on numerous occasions over the past few years, stewardesses have appeared in my columns. Sorry to irritate you further, but short of Salon's editors requesting otherwise, the tradition will continue. I am fully aware of the term's anachronistic bent and its rarity in present-day vernacular. My reasons for using it are practical and aesthetic. The words "flight attendant" and "cabin crew" not only are gender neutral but are artistically anemic and clunky, and they become repetitive over the course of a long article. Why not, from time to time, provided such occasions are judiciously selected and within the boundaries of good taste, reach for something more colorful? "Stewardess" is quaint and admittedly unsuitable in certain contexts. However, it is neither totally obsolete nor, I should think, offensive. Not any more than "actress" or "waitress." It's a useful option, and I like its throwbacky flavor.

Over the years, two large-scale changes in the airline business turned stewardesses into flight attendants. First and most obvious was the growing number of applicants who, through the dictates of biology, simply couldn't be stewardesses, no matter how hard they tried. At first, these employees were called "stewards." Thus, the airplane cabin wasn't terribly different from a restaurant, where stewards and stewardesses, like waiters and waitresses, stewed.

(Er, that is to say, served their customers. As is wont to happen in the lexicon of industry, some atrocious variations were spawned from an otherwise innocent root. Fortunately "stew," as both a verb -- "I stewed at Braniff for 14 years" -- and a slang noun -- "What hicks those stews are at Piedmont" -- was seldom heard beyond the airport crew lounge.)

Generally, people don't get wound up over labels like "waiter" and "waitress" -- gender-specific terms for workers of opposite sexes whose tasks are basically identical. "Actor" and "actress" are another example. In the airplane it was similar, except that as time went on, these workers and their employers wanted us to take them more seriously. As aviation itself evolved, from a realm of the elite to a form of mass transportation, this was perfectly good reasoning. Airplanes became bigger and faster, carrying many more people; the job of attending to those people grew less concerned with extravagance and more concerned with efficiency and safety. Passengers -- hundreds at a time -- don't need or expect to be doted on or pampered. They need to be served, overseen and, if need be, kept alive. The "real job" of the cabin staff isn't serving pretzels and cocktails, it's reacting to emergencies. How do you evacuate 420 people from a burning 747 in 90 seconds or less? How do you prepare a plane for a crash landing? Ask a flight attendant. Now that's got a bit more gravity. Per regulation, the maximum number of seats an airline is allowed to install on a given aircraft depends partly on how many flight attendants it carries along.

I can't say for sure if Joanne Miller's issue had more to do with gender association or some perceived professional insult. In other words, was she offended as a woman, or as a worker? (I'd be anxious to know, but she never replied to my letter.) If it's the former, I'd recommend she relax a little, maybe take a walk and do some reevaluating. If it's the latter, my sympathies are much stronger, though I'll remind her -- along with anybody else who may have been bothered -- that I employ "stewardess" sparingly and, more often than not, colloquially in tone. It's a break. It's for color.

And it could be worse. "Trolley dolly," for instance. I'm told that expression is popular in Britain, and elicits great compassion for the crews flying loads of inebriated soccer fans home from losing matches.

Or, instead of directing your protests at me, you might wish to address them to Singapore Airlines. I personally don't mind, but the world's 13th largest carrier still proudly refers to its female cabin crew as the "Singapore Girls." Boasts the airline's Web site: "We have one of the world's youngest fleet in the air, a network spanning five continents, and the Singapore Girl as our symbol of quality customer care and service." It's a branding that dates to 1972 and is the brainchild of Ian Batey, founder of the Singapore advertising giant Batey Ads, with whom the hometown airline has shared a decades-long relationship.

In many countries, the requirements to become a Singapore Girl are the stuff of discrimination lawsuits or are banned outright: Candidates can be no older than 25, and are forced to "retire" by 35. They must be of Asian extraction (most are Singaporean or Malay, but many are Chinese, Indian, Korean, Indonesian or Japanese) and must be "slim and attractive, with a good complexion and warm personality."

"The Singapore Girl strategy turned out to be a very powerful idea," writes Venture Republic magazine. "A successful brand icon with an almost mythical status and aura around her." Madame Tussauds wax museum in London installed a Singapore Girl in 1994. It was the museum's first commercial figure. In 1992, the Mattel toy company released a Singapore Girl edition of its famous Barbie doll.

"The Singapore Girl encapsulates Asian values and hospitality," adds Venture Republic, "and could be described as caring, warm, gentle, elegant and serene."

Or, put another way in a story from Reuters, "Despite her success, critics complain the Singapore Girl concept is sexist, outmoded and largely intended to serve male passengers' fantasies of desirable, subservient Oriental women."

I don't know how many male passengers truly fantasize about subservient Oriental women, but plenty of fliers, male and female alike, fantasize about good on-board service. Obviously the Girls excel in that regard, helping Singapore Airlines rack up more customer service awards and accolades than virtually all other carriers combined.

Next page: Who can forget (or forgive) National Airlines for its infamous "Fly me" campaign?